


I Will Grow

by littlebrownshoe (Wolfy_Tales)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Acorn Feels, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Happy Ending, Indulgent short fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 17:25:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2858966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfy_Tales/pseuds/littlebrownshoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo planted the acorn in an unadorned ceramic pot and placed it on his kitchen's windowsill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Grow

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit.

 

_A Bagginshield one-shot where Bilbo gains a new friend, and finds an old one._

.

Bilbo planted the acorn in an unadorned ceramic pot and placed it on his kitchen's windowsill. He waited for it to sprout, and one day it did. The hobbit watched the pale green shoot illuminated by the morning sun glow and grow as days passed.

He had made many promises to Thorin, and this one he was intent to keep. Bilbo had almost worried the acorn might not grow, that something else Bilbo had tried to help along had died before it should have.

But it stubbornly broke through the dirt, and Bilbo found himself nearly watering the little sprout with his salty tears.

Bilbo kept a steady attention on it, as if it might run away like one of those Ents of old. The acorn had sat in his pocket for that winter traveling with Gandalf, cushioned with damp leaves and pine needles. While Bilbo had always been a good gardener, he would have balked at the idea of helping a simple acorn germinate in a good silk coat pocket. Now that its roots had found purchase in the dirt he had put it in, Bilbo could not think of anything more treasured.

The hobbit wondered if this was what Thorin had felt for the Arkenstone, but he knew this love was different. It was obsessive, and worrisome, but it was ultimately innocent. Bilbo did have the bad habit of falling in love with fragile things too easily. Maybe it was him trying to cope, to hope that not everything weak like his parents had to die without cause or reason.

By the end of Spring, Bilbo transplanted the little plant in to a bigger pot. He kept it at the sill by his work desk now, as the sun had a different angle in the fall and winter. Bilbo thought he was probably coddling this little life too much, but he did not care. It was strong, yes, but he did not want to put it through unnecessary pain.

And Bilbo needed the company. From being around so many dwarves for nearly three years, he missed the chaos and bonds. He talked to his little tree, and wondered if he should name it. But Bilbo could not think of anything fitting, and it was just a babe with no personality yet, so he just let it grow without a purpose or calling.

When the snow thawed and Spring began anew, Bilbo transplanted it again in to a bigger pot and took it out by the garden. He let it sit with his other plants, and talked to it as he tilled the soil and pulled the weeds.

As the end of Spring happened, and the bite of Autumn crept in, Bilbo turned and saw that his acorn was no acorn anymore. Now it was a healthy young sapling, threatening to split the pot if he left it indoors for another winter. It would be impossible anyways, as it was taller than him now and would not fit without being cramped.

There was already a large tree directly atop his home, and Bilbo knew not to plant the oak there. It would have to fight against unrelenting wind and the other tree for light and space. Even then, it might one day put its roots too deep, and someone might cut it down to preserve Bag End.

Instead Bilbo placed it in front of his home, to the left of the doorway in the crook of the hill. Here it was protected by the wind a bit, and it could grow big and tall. The hobbit would not care when it blocked the view of the window years down the line. When its leaves would cover his pathway and shade his flowers.

Every morning like before, Bilbo went and studied his tree. It was doing well, even when it had little icicles hanging from its branches. Some days, when the wind howled like wargs, Bilbo wished to go out and protect it. But that would be silly, as the tree did not need him in that way anymore.

Bilbo was studying the first green buds of leaves on the tree when he heard the clacking of hooves on the road. He did not turn, thinking that maybe they were passing on, or had business with his neighbors. Yet the pace stopped, and Bilbo turned from his oak with a furrow in his brow to see what this was all about.

His eyes widened, his heart stuttered, and his brain threatened a faint when he saw Thorin's grave face. The dwarf had more white in his hair, and his eyes did not seem darker, but tired.

"Good morning, Master Baggins," Thorin called with a fond smile that Bilbo remembered all too well.

The dwarf first dismounted, and Bilbo rushed forward to help him lead the pony out back. There was a fairly large back pasture area behind Bag End, and Thorin said the pony would not wander too far off. Bilbo swallowed thickly when he looked up and saw that Thorin was studying him.

"I'll get the kettle on, and we'll have a chat, shall we?" Bilbo asked, the first flaring of irritation sprouting.

Thorin caught on to his anger at being denied the knowledge of his survival for many seasons with a nod, and followed behind the hobbit with his head nearly bowed. Feeling a bit vindictive, Bilbo added sugar in to Thorin's tea, even with the knowledge that he did not like sweet things very much.

Yet Thorin drank it all, and only grimaced a little bit. The familiar stubbornness made Bilbo laugh until he was tearing up, and then his gasps for breath turned in to whimpers and sobs.

"Thorin, they said they were putting you away deep in the mountain, to return to the stone. I saw you close your eyes, and heard you give out that parting breath," Bilbo said through his many tears. "Oh, I thought that you had died! And it turns out now that I had just run in fear!"

Thorin did not say anything, and put a heavy hand at Bilbo's back as the small hobbit shook in relief from a dead weight being taken from his mind and heart.

Once Bilbo had stopped crying, Thorin explained that while he had survived, there was still much to figure out. Thorin decided he did not want the mountain, and Fili and Kili had agreed before dismissing the idea of them taking the throne. Dis had instead stepped forward to rule with Dain, not in marriage, but in kinship. Thorin explained that his sister-sons were off exploring the world, and might return to the mountain if they felt so inclined. They had threatened to follow Thorin here, as they had enjoyed the cheese of the Shire like no other place before.

Thorin had always meant to send a raven, but he thought it was empty. To tell someone that they were alive in writing, instead of actually showing their face.

"I don't understand why you came back here, then," Bilbo said as he looked up, fingers shaking a bit. "You said the roads of the Shire were unnecessarily windy, and the folk's gazes on you too queer."

Thorin's smile was slow, but soft and widened until it nearly split his face. There was such clear adoration, like when Bilbo had first shown him the acorn. Bilbo remembered watching Thorin slowly return to his true self in that moment, and Bilbo had never felt so accomplished.

He had saved Thorin's life from many others, but it was another thing entirely to save the dwarf from himself. Yet then he turned away, and gave Bilbo an armored shirt that would have done nothing to protect the hobbit from the fall Thorin nearly gave him.

Bilbo did not want to fail in protecting another again, and that was the true reason why he had taken such special care with that acorn. He had been burying memories of a friendship, and of what he had felt with Thorin. It was to end one chapter of his life to start another. To see something begin to grow, but then to put its roots down and let it sit and grow strong. Bilbo had though that was to happen to him: that he would remain here in Bag End, growing larger sideways and gaining more weathered skin.

Now there was a dwarf in his kitchen, who had refused to back away from sweet tea and his leaky nose.

"I have come, Bilbo, to see how you and your tree are faring," Thorin finally answered. "And seeing as how well that tree is, I will now entirely focus my attentions to your person."

Bilbo flushed, and Thorin let out a long, rumbling chuckle. The dwarf leaned forward, and Thorin pressed his forehead against Bilbo's, their noses brushing. It felt more intimate than the kiss Bilbo had hoped for, and it made his hope grow strong enough to reach out and rest a hand against Thorin's cheek.

Unbeknownst to the two, the first of many new leaves on the oak outside unfurled to meet the sun.

.

FIN

 


End file.
